


When I'm Gone

by generalatomicsgalleria (charmingotter)



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Angst, Bittersweet, F/M, Gen, Halloween
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-08-09 06:47:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16444865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charmingotter/pseuds/generalatomicsgalleria
Summary: Sanctuary's first Halloween is spent teaching children, serious talks, and eventually, drinking the night away





	1. Jagged Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> This fic uses the same sole survivor and is related to my other fic 'What We've Become' which can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10541001).

The gourds they had managed to grow weren’t exactly the same as pumpkins, but they were as close as they were ever gonna get to the real deal. Rose and Preston had tested a couple the day before and they seemed to hold up well enough though. She handed off another to a young child brought in from one of the many Minutemen settlements for this very occasion. “Got it?” She asked, before letting go completely. The young girl nodded determinedly, tongue stuck out in concentration as she carried it back to one of the tables they had set up.

“Alright,” everybody got their gourds?” Preston raised his voice to ask them. Everyone confirmed yes, some parents chiming in as well, though only a few, as most had not opted to ‘Do whatever the heck you guys are doing’. Preston continued, “Good. Now, since I’m kind of new to this, Miss Rose here is gonna explain how we’re gonna do this and then we’ll come around and help everyone.”

Rose smiled, begrudgingly as she stepped up and began explaining how ‘pumpkin’ carving worked. “We can carve out whatever kind of face you want, we just have to draw it out first,”’ she told them. “But let's get our gourds opened up first. Preston,” she said, gesturing for him to hand over one of the knives they were going to use and stepped up to the first table she came to. 

There were four kids at the table, three girls, one boy, each watching her curiously as she began very carefully to carve out the top and pull it out. She smiled when the boy oohed at how gross it looked. Pushing it back to the child, she told her, “Preston is gonna come around in just a second and bring you some spoons, but you can start pulling all that out with your hands.” She proceeded to do the same with all the children around the table. The boy refusing to use his hands, instead deciding to wait on Preston, who had gotten to work cutting the tops off for the others. 

One of the girls at the table looked up at Rose as she was scrapping seeds out of the gourd. “Are you gonna do one, Miss Rose?” She asked. 

“I already did,” Rose smiled. “It’s sitting right over there,” she pointed to one of the other tables. It had...rotted slightly since she had done it, apparently they didn't hold up as well as pre-war pumpkins, it sat jaggedly, smiling hauntedly at them. Preston had named it Rose when she first carved it, saying it smiled like her. Now the name seemed...uneasy at best. Maybe it was just her though. 

The girl looked back at Rose frowning. “That one’s scary.”

“Oh. Well, they’re supposed to be, you know,” Rose said, despite her own enease. “Halloween is supposed to be scary.” She didn’t look back at the jack-o-lantern the rest of the evening though, the decaying thing reminding her of her own wilting soul.


	2. What's Really Scary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Story time with Deacon

“And then,” Deacon said. “All the ghouls ate the kids candy and left only old vegetables behind.” He grabbed one of the kids by the back of the shirt, tickling them as he did before they squirmed away giggling.

“That wasn’t scary,” one of the other kids whined from the other side of the circle they had made around the fire. 

“Yes, it was,” Rose spoke up before anyone else could. They were still having their little Halloween for the children and the carving had gone well, but they had all agreed the Commonwealth was scary enough as is. They didn’t need to make up any sort of bad stories for them to worry about. “And now, after the scariest story of the night. It is time for bed.” She smiled at them all. “Off ya go. We all have to go home tomorrow, guys. Get some rest.” She made a shooing motion at them. 

“Thanks,” Deacon told her once they had all scrambled off. “I was running out of fake scary stories to tell.” He rubbed the back of his neck, self consciously. Rose knew he hadn’t really been wanting to be the one to do this, but he was the best story teller any of them knew. So, Deacon it had been.

Rose coughed, wondering if it was the smell of the smoke making her do it, or the illness eating away at her. “Yeah, but you did a good job.” She shook her head. 

He nodded. “These kids probably have stories that would scare me, Rose.” He shook his head. 

She laughed hallowly, sitting down across from him. “Yeah, that’s what really scary, isn’t it?” She sighed. “They’re just kids.” She wasn’t sure what they had before, pre-war, was much better with what all had been going on, but at least, she supposed there weren’t mutated insects and lizards and crap running around trying to kill everyone. The military wasn’t much better granted, but it was less scary maybe. 

Deacon rubbed his eyes, behind his sunglasses. “Commonwealth kids,” he amended for her. “They’re tough. They’ll be okay. Probably all the better since you came around too.” He gave her a weak smile. 

“For how much longer?” She asked suddenly. “What happens when I’m gone, Deacon? Things go back exactly the way they were before?” Rose shook her head, anger bubbling up inside of her at the things she couldn’t change. Even if she fixed them, they wouldn’t change. It was too frustrating sometimes. 

He frowned, looking away now. She had told him week sago about what was wrong with her...How she was going to die. He hadn’t said a word about it since. Rose imagined he didn’t really want to think about it, much less talk about it.


	3. Halloween

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Halloween is best spent getting as drunk as possible

Rose turned the bottle up one last time, letting the last drops of it trickle down into her mouth before throwing it into the river (what was a little littering at this point?). Everyone else had went to bed and between the kids and Deacon’s quiet sadness, she wasn’t ready to go to bed. At least not without a lot of alcohol. 

“Rose?” She paused as she went to grab the next bottle of beer. “Rose? What are you doing out here in the dark?” It was Preston. She had forgotten about his constant patrolling apparently. He came forward, the glow from his laser musket lighting up the night only enough for them to see each other. 

She popped the top off her beer. “Nothing much.” She had told Preston the truth too. He knew exactly what she was doing out here. His big heart wouldn’t let her do it alone though. The fact made her chest hurt. There were plenty of regrets to carry by now, but hurting the people she had come to think of as family was perhaps the worst of all. Of course, maybe she could have avoided this whole thing if she could have just been better at her old life. 

Preston sat down beside her, taking her drink from her and taking a sip. “If you find the Institute they could probably fix you, you know.” Rose just stared at him. “I mean...they’re awful, but if they could give you a chance…” Preston trailed off. 

Rose snorted. “Not to be grim, Pres, but I’d actually rather die than do that.” She shook her head. She wasn’t going to beg the people who kidnapped her child to save her life. If she met them at all she’d kill them herself with her bare hands. 

He sighed. “No, you’re right. That’s...not fair. I’m sorry though.”

She just nodded, taking the beer back from him. Nothing any of them could do about it now she supposed. Picking up another, full one she handed it to Preston. “Halloween is best spent drunk.”

In the dark, she saw his face twist slightly, conflicted, before taking it from her. “You’re right. A toast though.”

Rose smiled slightly. He was a good man. A shame the things life haad handed to him. “What to?”

“You,” he said. “And this Halloween you’ve helped us make.”

Humoring him, she clinked their bottles. “To me and Halloween.” He just smiled.


End file.
